iDon't Cry
by AshesAshesWeAllFallDeepDown
Summary: An hour and a half is all we've got.


**iLove You happened, and my heart feels like it's breaking. This calls for what?**

**Angst and closure.**

**I own nothing; iCarly is, sadly, in possession of Dan Schneid-meister. I only say sadly because I cried myself into near hysteria, he really is doing well with that show.**

**0-0-0-0-0-0**

Sam Puckett could explain in full detail the feelings of being terrified, lonely, weak and alone. She could tell you what it's like to sit on the edges of what some people call despair. In fact, Sam calls it Sunday dinner.

She could tell you all of the tiny little branches that sprout from the core of depression. Her entire _life_ has built the cement blocks up from the basement of her subconscious to create the wall, which took Fredward Benson a mere few weeks to break.

Their relationship, by no means, seemed serious to Carly, Spencer, or Gibby. It was mindless making out and the occasional pet name here or there, and then on to endless fighting. Who could have known that fighting itself was the one single way that they just say all of the things they could never say before? Still, on both sides, the young couple had to admit that their fighting grew ridiculous and tiresome after a while. And by then, they'd move on to talking, something Sam Puckett was never used to, if only because she never had anyone willing to listen. Sure, Carly was someone she could trust, but the airy web-show hostess didn't _really_ understand.

Sam never had a Father. Well, she _had_ a Father. But he was, what Sam would call, on a scale from one to ten, a twenty point douche bag. And when she needed to vent the frustrations that came with the horrifying memories of the things he said – the things he _did_, Sam Puckett was grateful that someone like Freddie Benson was there to listen. Not just listen, either; Freddie would hold her, and he'd just sit there and _let_ her cry. He'd even encourage it, admitting to his girlfriend that he'd never really had a father either. Not one that he remembers, anyway. He felt things for Sam. Not just distain, or annoyance for the abrasive psycho; Freddie felt guilt for her situation, and his utter stupidity in _never_ understanding the way she was, and why. He felt protective of her. _Freddie_ felt protective of _Sam._ And though Sam Puckett was pretty knowledgeable in the things his beautifully developed muscles could do, she knew she didn't need him to fight for her. Speaking, of course, in the sense that he _could_ protect her.

Freddie constantly listened to Sam talk. He loved hearing about the history that made Sam the way she was. The bad things would spark anger, which, Sam could see just by watching his body language shift. She'd get the hint by the way his shoulders tensed, or the way his eyes just squinted the tiniest bit. He didn't want to react too noticeably, in case _feeling_ too much about Sam's Father, or her Mother, or her Mother's boyfriend, or the one after that, or the one after that, would scare her off. What Freddie didn't know about, was his utter inability to scare her off at this point. Talking to Freddie like this about things that she couldn't even say out loud to her Mother was almost addicting. It made her more alive than anything she'd ever done, including stolen cars, or causing pain.

Though his efforts remained fruitless, Freddie Benson did whatever he could to dent Sam's armor. He wanted to see the last cement block crumble to ruble at their feet, which were currently dangling over the fire escape. He wanted to see Sam cry, as to completely bare herself to him. He wanted that intimacy that no one else got. Well, Carly occasionally, but Sam never _really_ cried. By no means did he like the idea of something breaking her to that point, but when it did happen, Freddie just needed to be sure that he'd be the one to hold her and not someone else. He encouraged nearly every day for her to just let her inhibitions go, and let it _out._ But Sam Puckett never cried. She made that her law, and only law. A petty tear over something as trivial as a urinal nearly made her avoid the Shay residence all together. Being told to cry, and being held the way that Freddie would hold her, had her yearning for the strength to give him what he wanted, to give _herself_ the release she _needed._

But Sam Puckett never cried. Though now, sitting on the fire escape where it basically all started, Sam Puckett was so close, the smallest inkling of some sentimental statement could very well send her reeling. Her entire being was engulfed in flames while Freddie's lips moved over her own. It wasn't making out. That would just be too tragic. Even for them. They couldn't do the passionate, tonguing, two teens in love deal right now. These were innocent, bittersweet, lazy goodbye kisses. Because this was it. It was goodbye from here. Not that they wouldn't see each other again, but this would be the very last time they could do things like this.

It was that stupid speech that Carly gave to Spencer that set the ideas in their minds. The stupid, impossible idea that they were 'forcing things' latched itself onto Sam's right brain. It created confusion, which became sadness, which became anger, which became '_why did we have to walk down at that exact moment?' _which led to '_Did we just break up?' _and then, '_Wanna break up at midnight?'_ which was _so _unbelievably casual that Sam _wanted_ to cry right about then, because this was a pretty big deal.

So here they are now. It's eleven fifty eight, and Sam's just about to pull back and leave, but Freddie's hand moves to lay on hers, and she can't help the way her lips push forward against his just a little harder. She loves him. He loves her. And now this is all so confusing that Sam just doesn't want to stop kissing him, because really, why does this have to be so complicated at all?

But it's them. It's Sam Puckett and Freddie Benson, and they just decided to break up in a minute and thirty seconds. Sam feels like she's bursting into flames, because Freddie's lips are now pushing back even harder, and he's almost dictating her stay. It feels like he knows that she's wavering. He knows that she knows it's time to go, and he's almost challenging her to leave at this point. If the unexpected block of lazy kisses was any answer to how in love they were, there would have been no question. But, Sam knows their decision, and she will_ not_ be the one begging to forget all about their plan to break up in fifty six seconds.

Sam feels the time almost speed up, and it's as though she can literally _feel_ the seconds pass them. Freddie's lips are suddenly less insistent, and it's like he can feel it, too. Time's almost up, and she really just wants to curl into his side and watch the stars until the sky melts to pink with the early hours of the morning. But while Freddie will probably stay here, watching the abstract colors of the morning, Carly Shay will be stranded with a best friend who's in mourning over the best thing that could have happened, yanked away with little-to-no warning. And Carly probably will cry, which is more than Sam can say about herself.

Five, four, three, two, one, and now it's time to part ways, and almost like she _knows_ the exact moment on the dot, the church bells ring across town, signaling the hour's up, and it's time for Sam to leave. Sam could only classify the noise Freddie makes as a whine, as she pulls her lips away from his.

With out a word, she swings her legs back over the metal bar of the fire escape and prepares herself, emotionally to walk away from this relationship and pretend it never happened.

"I love you," And for an instant Sam hopes, she really _prays _that he'll say this every time she makes to walk away. Her blonde hair swishes slightly over her shoulders as she turns to smile sadly at her now, _ex _boyfriend. "I hate you, too," And that's all. It's over. The tale of Sam Puckett and Freddie Benson has reached its end as Sam sneaks from Freddie's room, through his hall, and out the front door. Carly welcomes her back into her home, confused as to where they went in the first place. Sam only smiles and tells her not to worry about it. Still confused, Carly announces she's going up to bed, and Sam can feel free to spend the night. As if she'd planned on leaving anyway.

When the apartment was suddenly dark, and Sam could only hear her heart pounding in her chest, along with her shallow breathing, she was shocked to find her face was wet with the first tears, of just another painful goodbye.


End file.
